Let's x Be x Friends
by xNekoMilkx
Summary: If killing is the only thing you can do, surely you will be rejected by everyone. You don't need friends. Yet despite having this drilled into his mentality his whole life, Killua can't help but disagree. In short, just an angsty one shot.


**Title: Let's x Be x Friends  
Rating: T for some adult themes and somewhat graphic violence.  
Characters: Gon to Killua (no Hunterpedia)  
^ 99% probably don't even get it**

 **A/N: Eh, I might as well post this thing up here as well.  
Originally posted by me on Archive of Our Own **  
**But of course the link doesn't work so I have to try and figure this out 50 billion times and fail and I hate this omfg  
Just look up nelka7122 on Archive .-.**  
 **HxH no belong to me but story do belong plzzz donut steel :)**

 **-WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO TO GET A DECENT PAGE BREAK FF. NET WONT LET ME OMFG -  
I think I figured it out .-.**

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 _Death…Murder…Kill…Kill_

"That's what you were made for"

His vision is blank. No emotions seep out of his cold, empty eyes. Red. Red is the only thing he can see and the only thing he knows how to see, and with one swift move of an arm, he can feel the flesh being ripped apart as his nails pierce through his opponent's chest. He drops the still beating heart and it lands on the ground with a small thud as his opponent's outstretched hand falls limp to the ground.  
 _  
"You don't need friends, Killu, isn't that what I've been trying to tell you?_ "

Blood drips from his hand onto the pavement below. Drip drop.

Not like it makes any difference. The floor is already stained with red.

His mind spins and his knees feel weak, not because of the heinous act he had just committed, but because of the fear that overcomes him as his mind flickers back to a vivid image. Warm eyes staring at him with that same curious innocence. That smile that seems to be unable to distinguish between right and wrong.

 _"Let's be friends"_

But how can he possibly be friends with anyone when he's so conflicted? How can he possibly be friends with anyone when it's not even in his innate nature? How can he possibly be friends with anyone if all he can do is kill?

 _"You were born a killer. When you meet someone, your first instinct is to kill them."  
_  
Kill them…

Kill him…

Kill…

"Shut up"

The words leaving his mouth are shrill and they scratch his throat. His knees buckle and he finally falls down.

"Shut up"

He repeats, his voice more quiet and desperate this time. He hits the ground with his fists as hard as he can until the brittle earth breaks. His skin cracks and he can feel his own life flowing out of him, staining the world with his disgustingly red blood.

The cold blood of a killer.

 _Hands like these shouldn't corrupt that which is innocent._

He knows that he should keep his distance, but the temptation is right there, right in front of his face. The forbidden fruit he should never have; never even hope to have. Yet his hand is outstretched, ready for the taking, and his mouth is wide open, hungry for more.

It's right there and he wants it so badly, wants to take it all for himself, until God's mighty words come back to strike him down.

 _"You have no friends. You can never have any friends."_

His eyes begin to hurt as a familiar liquid starts to seep out. He can feel it burning as it falls on the open cuts on his cheeks. It doesn't hurt as much as the pain in his chest, yet he still wants it to stop. He wants it all to stop. Thunder rumbles in the distance as he lets out a cry.

 _"Why?"_

The question is etched deep in his brain and he can't seem to be able to get away from it. Breathlessly, he slams his bleeding fists down on the ground until he's sitting in his very own little crater, yet even so, he doesn't stop. Rain begins to pour, and it almost seems like the sky is crying alongside him. His clothes are quick to absorb the water, and the scarlet begins to spread across his white shirt.

He feels cold…So cold.

His body shivers, goosebumps forming on his pale skin.

He feels just as he should feel.

Numb.

Having dug to the softer portion of the earth, mud begins to form at his knees. _Maybe I can just get buried alive right here and right now,_ he thinks and his hands finally fall limp. His head is hung low as he brings his hands back up, this time just to stare at his palms. He's shaking. It's painfully obvious just how badly, given how he can barely see his own fingers. His vision is blurred and all he can see the same red that he's so used to seeing. The rain has washed away most of it, yet he still sees it when he closes his eyes to blink, for the rain hasn't been able to wash away his sin.

He lowers his hands back down as his mouth opens and closes in a desperate attempt to say something, yet when he tries, his voice fails him. Just one word, just one syllable, yet why can't he do it?

 _Gon._

He's barely even aware of the shift in the soil as a figure slides down to meet him. He's aware of the heavy sound of boots walking through mud, yet his mind barely registers it. The figure stops and hovers over him, looking down, probably judging him because of all the corpses left on the battlefield.

 _What do I have to live for? Just kill me and be done with it. Not like I have anything left to go back to._

 _He hates me. I can't face him._

"Hey Killua, let's go home."

The moment he hears his voice, he chokes on his own spit, making a strangled, animalistic sound come out of his throat. His fists clench and relax. The dirt underneath his palms digs under his fingernails, making him feel filthier than he already is.

"Why?"

His voice is barely a whisper, a single little syllable that could barely even get an inch past his lips, yet he knows the male in front of him can hear it.

"Why what?"

His voice is as innocent as ever, holding no hint of malice.

 _Why?_

"Why can you be so calm…knowing I killed all these people?"

His own voice seems foreign to him, given how soft and broken his tone is. With a small sound escaping his lips, he closes his eyes to let the tears escape. He tries to wipe them with the back of his hand, desperate to shield himself from that judging gaze he feels afraid of, yet before his stained hand can make contact with his face, he feels a gentle touch stop him.

His palms are warm as they curl around his pale wrist. The same touch covers his face, wiping away the salty liquid and excess blood.

"Because we're friends, aren't we?"

He finds it hard to comprehend. Friends. Is this what friends are really like? Briefly, his eyes flutter open and he looks up to meet that warm, brown gaze. His heart stops for a moment, then resumes at an abnormally fast pace. He can hear it ringing in his ears as he stares up at that innocent, smiling face. That dark hair doesn't seem to be affected by the rain at all, and it mirrors the young man perfectly. Even in the toughest weather, he's still reaching as high as ever.  
 _  
_He feels as if all life has been returned to him, and with that sweet smile, his blood pulses through his whole body, making him feel incredibly warm, even under all those wet clothes. His cheeks slowly start to turn red and he's quick to evade that intense gaze again, yet out of the corner of his eye, he can still see him.

"Don't say such stupid things, idiot"

He's calmed down a little by now, and his voice has returned to its former way of sounding. It's so casual, making it easy to forget the place they were currently in. He can see the small frown and the crease between the eyebrows that form on the other male's face. It's an expression he's seen many times before, and he knows what words he's going to use next. Gon's eye twitches as he grabs him by the collar of his shirt.

"Eh? You're the one being stupid. We're friends, so I don't care what you did. We're friends, and nothing can change that. I don't care why you did it. I trust you."

Doki doki.

Even though he expects it, he is still startled by how much weight the words leaving the other male's mouth have. Yet instead of weighing him down, they lifted him up, soaring high above the silver lining of the clouds, allowing him to see past the rain into a world of sunshine. He finds his lips twitching at the sides, turning up into an awkward grin. The tension between them subsides and they fall into an awkward silence, disrupted only by the gentle melody of the rain.

Finally, his lips part to let out a soft laugh. A simple bittersweet sound that has him in tears all over again, but not in a bad way. These tears are different. They are light and no longer hurt him, because Gon is right there to wipe them away, even if he doesn't realize that he's doing it. He doesn't need to move, he doesn't need to say anything, because Killua doesn't need him to do that in order to feel at ease.

"You really are an idiot" He murmurs softly before leaning forward and wrapping his arms around the male in front of him, sending them both moving backwards. Gon's back lands gently against the mud. The wet dirt seeps into his clothes, staining them a dark brown.

"Eh? I'm not an idiot. You're the idiot, idiot! Hey, get off me Killua. You're heavy!" His voice holds a certain rage to it that can only be expressed as playful, and he makes no attempt to actually push the silver haired male off of him. Killua has seen Gon get enraged. This is different. This feels warm, just like Gon's whole body, and Killua wants to draw himself in. He's only human. He's had a taste of the forbidden fruit and abandoned God, abandoned all that he he's been taught, just for this sweet feeling burning deep inside him.

"Can we stay like this just for a little longer?" He asks, his voice tired as he closes his eyes, head resting against Gon's chest. He can hear the heart beating under his ribcage. A soft, yet fast paced, melodic beat that draws him to sleep. So fragile. Gon is so fragile while lying underneath him like this, yet there is no fear, no hostility…Only this warmth.

"Hm, idiot. It's raining. You're going to catch a cold, so let's go home" The dark haired male whines, his chest elevating and stirring Killua out of his daze. It is raining, yet he doesn't feel it anymore. He doesn't feel cold anymore, even as he rolls off Gon and lands flat on his back, getting covered in even more mud. The other male gives him a disapproving pout.

"Hm, now you're even dirtier than before, and look, my shirt is covered in mud too" He says as he sits up and attempts to turn his head in order to look at the back of his shirt.

"We need to take a bath" At the sound of a bath, Killua's ears perk up. Bath? With Gon? Instantly, he feels his body grow even hotter and his eyes grow wide, despite the rain that's pouring heavily on his face. Gon is the first to stand up. He hovers over Killua and extends his hand, giving the silver hailed male a grin.

"Let's go home"

Killua grasps his hand and allows himself to be pulled up. It's warm and calloused, but his touch is gentle. Absentmindedly, Killua gives his palm a squeeze as they begin to walk out of this twisted graveyard, never once separating.  
 _  
"You don't need friends. When you first meet someone, you assess whether you can kill them or not."_

"Never fight an enemy you know you can lose against"

Killua knows he has the physical ability to kill Gon at the current level of power he has, but that doesn't mean he can. He can't kill the person standing right in front of him, yet he doesn't turn with his tail between his legs and run. He wants to stay precisely because he _can't_ kill Gon.

He can't kill him, because if Gon dies, Killua would die too.

The heart in his chest is bitter, black, and withered.

Yet there is a single red patch.

If Gon dies, that small patch would cease to exist, and with no support, his whole heart would crumble and die, leaving him nothing more than an empty mess.

His eyes harden as he takes one look back at the scene he's left behind. If it came down to it, he'd do all that again, even thrice more, if it was for Gon. He's come to realize that. The scary part of Killua's nature isn't the fact that he can kill people as if they are little ants under his magnifying glass.

It's that little feeling he harbours for Gon.  
This feeling called:

 _Obsession._

Love. 

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**A/N Yea can we just pretend that is striked through . God i hate this website omffg**


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